


melted wax wings

by ElasticElla



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e07 Power Outage, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Minor Character Death, Multi, Multiamory March
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23028697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Zero references to the Flash.(The timeline isn’t repaired, but everything works out alright anyways.)
Relationships: Barry Allen/Eddie Thawne/Iris West
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	melted wax wings

**Author's Note:**

> annnd guess who started the flash rewatch, familiar dialogue is pulled or heavily inspired by the episode 
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr](https://elasticella.tumblr.com/) ^.^

“It’s my move, Mr. Allen, and I say we make a run for it.” 

Caitlin bites her lip, “We should split up- he doesn’t, he can’t get to all of us. I know it’s cold but-”

“No you’re right,” Cisco says. “Maximize survivors.” 

“See you on the other side.” 

It’s a cursed blessing that there isn’t any time for goodbyes, possibly last goodbyes and Barry can’t think like this. That Tony is dead, _dead_ , because of Wells. That- Barry has to focus on the now, they have to get out of here. 

Cisco and Caitlin go right, Barry and Wells go left. There’s no stealth to be had with the wheelchair, so they go as quickly as possible, make it all the way to the parking lot before Farooq catches them. (Distantly Barry is glad Caitlin and Cisco should be on the building’s opposite side.) 

Farooq is practically glowing bone white, sparks jumping off of him. 

“I ate them all,” he says with a deranged laugh. “Each of your special little prisoners- the power they held is mine!” 

Barry hurls, can see it all in his mind’s eye too easy. Farooq standing over each of the cells and draining them one by one to death. To- 

“And finally the feast of the evening.” 

Barry steels himself, wiping the back of his mouth and straightening up. God he hopes neither Joe nor Iris are asked to identify his body, hopes they- 

Two streams of icy blue power briefly connect with Wells, a flash of yellow lightning, and it’s as if time has frozen. It’s impossible, Wells standing on Farooq’s opposite side and Barry’s stomach twists further as the impossible becomes true. 

Dr. Wells. The man he idolized, the man who mentored him and helped with his powers, the man- the man in yellow lightning. Barry screams, running towards him. 

‘He runs slow even for a normal person’, Cisco’s words echoing in his head, taking on a mocking tint. 

He isn’t nearly fast enough. A step forward, and Farooq’s beams connect with Wells again, draining him. A step forward, and Barry doesn’t even know what he’d do if he got close enough, Wells and Farooq both falling to the ground- dead. 

There’s nothing left to puke up. 

Cisco and Caitlin appear, and Barry gets the call that Iris and Joe are okay. Cisco tells him to go, and he doesn’t question it, doesn’t care what happens with the bodies. 

Barry runs all the way home. 

(It takes over an hour, and he Ubers the other half.)

.

It’s another Uber to the hospital, and maybe everyone has a point about getting a car. He stops in the gift shop to pick up some flowers, the least he can do, terrible scenarios have been taunting him of what might have happened to Iris if Eddie wasn’t there. 

His knocks open the room door, revealing Iris and Joe at Eddie’s bedside. Eddie looks ridiculously good for someone who got shot, and so not the thoughts to be having with Joe in the room. (And Iris, he adds on belatedly, hands sweaty as he places the vase on the bedside table.) 

“Hey Allen.” 

“Hey Eddie.” 

Eddie beams up at him, “That’s so nice, so pretty. Like you, right Iris?” 

Barry sputters, cheeks burning bright red and Iris pats Eddie’s leg. “Uh huh honey.” 

Iris turns to him, adding, “He is on a bunch of pain meds, but he’s gonna be okay.” 

Eddie yawns huge, eyes drifting shut as he fights to stay awake. “M’no wanna play the thing.”

Iris looks down at him, so full of love that Barry’s throat goes dry. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Eddie does, falling asleep with a smile, and Joe’s hand is heavy as it hits Barry’s shoulder, walking him out. 

Joe waits until they’re in his car, pausing before starting it up. “How you holding up kiddo?” 

“Wells killed my mother.” It sounds insane out loud, and like a broken dam, the rest pours out: Tony’s death, Farooq and all the other meta-humans, the yellow lightning, that his powers are never coming back. 

“…I feel so helpless. What if something worse had happened at the precinct? To you or Iris or Eddie? I can’t- there’s nothing I can do now.”

“Listen Barry,” Joe starts, waits until Barry looks him in the eye. “Your greatest superpower will always be your heart, your belief and hope for people. It’s why the Flash was able to do amazing things while other meta-humans, didn’t. You might not be rescuing people out of burning buildings anymore, but you’re still helping keep this city safe. Barry Allen’s the one who helped put away the Stiletto Killer, not the Flash.” 

Barry tries to smile, “Thanks Joe.” 

He knows Joe believes it. Maybe one day, he will too. 

.

Caitlin offers to do more tests. Barry says no. 

It might be selfish (it is selfish) but he doesn’t want the speed back. Not when he knows what Wells did, not when he suspects the particle accelerator explosion wasn’t an accident at all. 

Becoming the Flash got his mother killed, being the Flash put Iris and Joe in danger, and the city will be just fine without the Streak. 

Cisco offers to get some drinks, and there’s a blurry silver lining- he can get drunk again. 

.

There’s a wave of crime in the upcoming week, and then, suddenly a shift. Murder drops, and theft increases dramatically- by value if not volume- frozen display cases and locks in their wake. There’s no question of who is behind it, but trying to prove that it’s Snart is a challenge. The man is irritatingly meticulous, and Barry’s going to find some piece of admissible evidence to nail him with. 

It helps that Snart isn’t killing anyone. It feels weird to be thankful to the thief at all, but a few billionaires missing diamond necklaces isn’t going to keep him up at night over not solving the case faster. 

Everything is slow now. He’s been waking up an hour earlier, and he’s still perpetually five minutes late to crime scenes. He tries carpooling with Joe, but that just makes him feel like he’s back in middle school, and he has to get up even earlier to get to the West house. Maybe a new apartment right next to the precinct so he can roll out of bed and be on time. 

There haven’t been any new meta-humans on the news, Barry doesn’t know what he’d do if there were. (Probably call Oliver, but he doesn’t want them dead, not like- his stomach lurches.)

Eddie comes back to work on a Thursday, and Barry moves some file boxes around for him even though he insists the doctor cleared him. (Insist he might, Eddie doesn’t actually pick up any of the boxes.) 

Iris writes a blog post about the Streak not being seen lately, includes a barely veiled invitation for him to visit her. Barry considers it, longer than he should. 

Iris and Eddie move in together, and Barry gets a nice bottle of tequila for himself. A quarter of the way through the bottle, he doesn’t even know who he’s more jealous of, and that’s new. 

Probably a bad sign.

One more glass and _fuck_ all he can imagine is Iris and Eddie in their new apartment, knows the layout from helping move boxes. They’d be christening every surface, starting in the kitchen. Iris’s long legs wrapped around Eddie as she’s propped up on a counter, Eddie’s hands racing up her thighs, an adoring grin on his face. Iris pulling his shirt off and-

Bad thoughts. “Bad thoughts,” he repeats out loud as if that will stop them. Barry grabs a random case file, forcing himself to read through it over and over until his brain stops. 

He falls asleep on the couch, hasn’t digested a single word he’s read, mind still reeling with images of Eddie and Iris. 

.

Morning comes with a nasty hangover, and it isn’t until he’s at Jitters that he even remembers last night’s thoughts. Iris is looking beautiful as ever, and if Barry happens to order an extra cronut for Eddie, it’s guilt not anything else. 

“Hey, we’re having a dinner party at our place tonight, breaking in the new oven. You in?” 

“How could I say no?” 

Iris’s eyes seem to sparkle, “Great, we’ll see you at seven.” 

Eddie grins wide when he gives him the baked treat, saying, “You’re the best man. Iris got me addicted to these.” 

And fuck, there’s that familiar pang of happiness-longing-and-lust. It’s so connected to Iris, that Barry tries convincing himself he’s just jealous of Eddie. It’d make the whole thing simpler at least. (On a near weekly basis, Eddie boxes with him, shirts optional, so yeah, simple jealousy is flimsy at best.)

.

Barry skips lunch. He has enough experience with Iris’s cooking to know it’s better to go in hungry. Even though his body only requires a regular amount of calories now, he still finds himself wanting to eat all the time. So he’s ready for spaghetti with too much garlic and burnt sauce, or lumpy pancakes, or undercooked chicken with wilted asparagus. Could probably even eat the meatloaf surprise that truly lives up to its name. 

He isn’t prepared for fondue. 

His eyes flicker between the set up coffee table and Eddie. Iris took his coat and said something about wine, and he rubs the back of his neck. 

“Did I uh, get the day wrong?” Barry asks, knowing he didn’t but maybe Iris forgot? Those candles look a hundred and ten percent like date night candles, and god, how awkward. 

Eddie laughs, clapping his shoulder. “Nah, you’re the only one that helped us move buddy. We thought this would be more fun than pizza. C’mon.” 

Sure enough, there are three place settings and glasses, a giant vat of melted cheese in the middle. They sit down, and Barry tries to think of something to say. They don’t really talk about much besides work and Iris.

“Did you hear about the Monet theft?” Eddie asks, and Barry is all over that. 

“Not much. I heard a behavioral specialist is coming in for it? Isn’t it just Snart’s crew?” 

“Maybe not. No ice, no surveillance footage. And all the bystanders-”

There’s a triumphant cry from the other room, that has them exchanging glances, and Iris emerges then with a wine bottle. “I couldn’t find the wine opener, but I got it.” 

Barry bites down a laugh, remembering the last time Iris knifed out a cork when they were teenagers. “Are there going to be cork particles in these drinks?” 

Iris’s lips twitch as she pours three glasses, albeit without any floating chunks. “I’ll have you know it’s the height of gourmet.” 

Eddie raises his glass, the three clinking, “To the next adventure.” 

Barry’s gaze automatically goes to Iris’s left hand at that, and Iris chokes, reaching across the table to slap his shoulder. “Our _apartment_ Barry.” 

Eddie’s eyes are twinkling, “She refuses to make an honest man out of me.” 

Barry grins, “You know when we were kids Iris used to make me lie to Joe about where she went at night-” 

“It’s called covering! And you two can’t gang up on me.” 

“Mhmm, cheesy bread?” Eddie asks, dipping a morsel and presenting it to Iris. 

Iris leans in and eats it, tongue briefly sweeping over Eddie’s fingers, and Barry’s palms are sweating. Oh god, he’s being a gross perv. This isn’t even the most pda he’s seen from them, shouldn’t even register. His stomach has the audacity to rumble, his body betraying him and cheeks burning hot. 

Iris has the most dangerous grin on, like the time they went deep into rural Missouri to set off fireworks after Joe reminded them in no uncertain terms that fireworks were banned in Central City. “Want some Barry?” 

And he _must_ have misheard her, misheard the tone at least. He’s nodding anyways, eyes huge as Iris rips off a chunk of the baguette and dips it in the cheese. She’s feeding him, warm fingers brushing against his lips, and they’re both watching him like-

Barry swallows, doesn’t even taste the bite. “Is this- is this a date?” 

“If you want Barr.” 

Barry looks between them, brain short-circuiting. “But you don’t, you guys don’t need me.” 

“We don’t,” Iris agrees. “We _want_ you.” 

His mouth is dry, heartbeat pounding in his ears. He looks to Eddie, has to be sure it’s both of them, “We?” 

“Barry,” Eddie deadpans, “last week we gave each other massages after boxing. Yeah, we.”

Words fail him, and Iris sighs dramatically, “And you didn’t do me, rude.”

His brain and blush kick in together, fantasies of Eddie doing Iris speeding by. “I thought you were being friendly!”

Eddie scratches his jaw, “I had a boner.” 

Iris grins wide, “Just what exactly did I miss out on?” 

“It’s a physical reaction to stimuli, I didn’t want to assume anything.” That and his mind had blanked when Eddie stood up with a noticeable bulge in his pants, has no idea what he said to him in the moment. 

“We want you, do you want us?” 

“Yeah,” Barry breathes, feels like lightning has struck him again with the debilitating realization that this is truly happening, feels impossible in a new way. 

Iris and Eddie are kissing him, Iris and Eddie are _kissing_ him. He can’t help cataloging the differences between them, beyond the obvious. Iris’s hands are quick and light, a tease almost how they touch him everywhere and nowhere at once. Eddie’s are much slower, like heavy molasses dripping down his spine a quarter-inch at a time. Conversely, Iris kisses deep and slow, and Eddie tries to keep them fast, as if afraid to leave either mouth unkissed for too long. 

They eventually get to the bedroom, and Barry can’t help making a comment, amused. “You weren’t kidding about ordering a bigger bed.” 

“Biggest and comfiest we could find,” Iris says with a grin, sitting on the edge. The bed takes all attention, taking up maybe seventy percent of the space. There’s a few small dressers, but they have nothing on the mountain of pillows. 

It really hits him then that this might not be a one-night escape into fantasies he thought were his alone. That maybe- 

“How long?” he asks, can’t get ahead of himself again. 

Eddie cups his cheek, “From the beginning there’s been three people in this relationship Barry.”

Barry kisses him, doesn’t have the right words. And they join Iris on the bed, and there’s no need for sensible words for a very long time.

.

Barry can’t stop grinning. He was only five minutes late to a crime scene today- basically early since Singh wasn’t there yet. Jitters has brought back the most delicious maple sugar muffins, and oh he has another dinner date with Iris and Eddie tonight. (One Eddie insists they will all be eating at to avoid another three am fondue reprise.)

There might be a neon sign on his forehead reading ‘guess who had a threesome with the love of his life and her boyfriend/his recent crush- this guy!’ There’s absolutely nothing that could bring him down-

“Hey Barry, you have the Karlsburg analysis?” Joe asks. 

“Yup,” he says, grabbing it out of the complete pile. 

Joe raises an eyebrow, “Feeling speedy?” 

“Just because I finished paperwork on time doesn’t mean my powers came back,” Barry says, striving for levity. 

Judging by Joe’s expression, he completely fails. “You seem happier than you’ve been since, uh, the incident.” 

“Right,” Barry’s cheeks burn and he tries not to think about why. “Caitlin says it can’t be fixed.” 

Which might not be entirely true, but it’s true enough. It’s true that Caitlin said it couldn’t be fixed without running a bunch of tests, and even after that it might be impossible. It’s true that Barry’s nightmares now feature Wells killing his mother without a mask, telling him to run, and he _can’t_. Power always corrupts, what if staying a speedster got to him? What if he turned out like-

“-Barry?”

“I want to tell Iris about the Flash.” 

Joe’s eyebrows jump up, “Why?” 

Barry doesn’t have a response, and Joe claps a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, I hate to say it but she does love Eddie. He makes her happy, and her knowing isn’t gonna-” 

“It’s not about that!” Barry hastily interrupts. “I don’t want her to feel like her hero completely forgot about her. And Felicity’s been keeping an eye on the shadier parts of the internet, no one’s even looking for him, everyone’s accepted he’s… gone.” 

“Have you?” 

Barry tugs a hand through his hair, “I want to. I think this will help.” 

“Okay Barr.”

.

Iris has finished telling them about her day when Barry pulls the cowl out. She recognizes it instantly, nearly knocks over the salad bowl to snatch it out of his hands. 

“How do you have this?” 

“That’s what I wanted to tell you both about. When I was hit by lightning, it changed me. I became impossibly fast, the Streak, the Flash.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me- did you stop because of Tony?” 

“I stopped because Farooq absorbed my speed. I’m back to regular me.” 

“Ah-ah you aren’t getting out of this by being cute and fishing for compliments. Why didn’t you tell me?” Iris asks. 

“I thought you’d be safer. Especially after Woodward. And I promised Joe I wouldn’t tell you.” 

“You _what_!” 

Barry scratches the back of his neck, “It was supposed to protect you from getting involved with the more dangerous side of it.” 

Iris stands up, “Look, I need to think. That’s a lot to process.” 

“Whatever you need,” Barry says, and Iris leaves to the other half of the apartment. 

Barry turns to Eddie, gnawing on his lip, “You’ve been quiet.” 

“It’s hard to believe- that doesn’t mean I don’t believe you. It’s just, what Iris said, it’s a lot to process. Up until now, I thought the Streak was a hoax. Some good samaritan acts partnered with a photoshopped blur.” 

“That’s fair.”

Eddie smiles wryly, “I guess you have a different view of the recent art heists?” 

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s hypnotism. There would be at least one witness, rather than everyone getting a seemingly-identical feeling of contentment. I think it’s a new meta-human, I’m just glad they aren’t dangerous.” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “They’ve stolen nearly half a billion in antiquities and art so far.”

“They aren’t killing. It’s almost funny. I thought I was helping save the city, but the city’s so much safer without the Flash around.” 

“That’s timing Barry, you can’t take all the blame-” 

“Snart. Snart only started dropping bodies after we met, and now that the Flash is gone, he isn’t killing people.” 

“Or he’s getting better at covering his tracks. Giant ice sculptures aren’t subtle.” Eddie squeezes his shoulder, “I’ll talk to Iris.” 

“Thanks man.” 

Barry heads home, ends up drinking too much and his thoughts spiral downwards. All the regrets are heavy enough to break his back, all the things he should have done as a speedster. 

He could have freed his Dad seamlessly. He had the ability, and now Wells is dead, and they might never get Henry out of jail. 

Now, he could do it without the speed. But everyone would know it was him, and his Dad would hate being on the run, and frankly, Barry doesn’t have enough money saved up to live out in some faraway island with no extradition to the US. 

He might be putting off his usual visit, the guilt choking him. 

(His Dad could have been _safe_.)

.

One day at a time, one step at a time.

It’s cliché as hell, but it helps. Joe tells him about how he reopened his Dad’s case, that there’s an inconsistency that looks promising. Him and Iris and Eddie get dinner again, and this time he gets to spend the night. (They don’t even have sex, falling asleep in the middle of Die Hard- but in the morning they do, and what a glorious way to wake up.)

A few weeks deep into the new normal, and Iris is driving Barry to his apartment since he forgot his work id in the other overnight bag. 

“You know, Eddie was thinking your bureau could fit in the walk-in closet.” 

Barry laughs, “Probably. That closet is huge.” 

Iris waits, and the other shoe drops, his eyes going wide. “Wait- really?” 

“Yeah,” she says. 

Barry bites his lip to contain the grin that threatens, “There’s only one thing we have to do first.” 

“What?” 

“Tell Joe.” 

“Ha! I’ll let you deal with that.” 

“That’s mean Iris. You’re lucky I love Eddie,” the tease slips without permission, and it’s true. 

Iris beams, “We love you too. Now go get your laminate before you’re more than ten minutes late.” 

“Shit!” Barry exclaims, running out to get it. 

(Yeah, everything’s going to be good.)


End file.
